


Revenge

by Megalovanilize



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megalovanilize/pseuds/Megalovanilize
Summary: Dubab had finally gone too far. Sylas Delacour- his first mate, his lover, his friend- was the only thing that had mattered for a long time. And now, as viciously as the waves struck the sides of his ship, he’d been ripped out of Germaine’s arms.It was time for revenge.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 2





	Revenge

It had been two months since it had happened. Since everything had been taken from him. Since his life had returned to a singular goal, and since he was unable to move on.

Two months since Sylas Delacour had been killed. 

It was the fastest Germaine had ever assembled a crew, and the most detached he’d been since his days as a pirate. He didn’t need friends, he needed people capable of occupying the Dubaddies while he took out their captain. He needed pawns. His ship was left at the Bowerstone docks, along with a promise to kill every last worker there if he found anything missing. His bartering lead him to a piece of wood he would barely call a ship, but it was fast, and that was all that mattered. He didn’t bother telling his crew that he fully expected this to be a suicide mission, he didn’t particularly care. He just needed to take Dubab down with him.

———-

The absence of his rival captain had Dubab curious. Huh. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. He’d always preferred action to thought, but there he was in his office thinking about what was taking Germaine so damn long to show up again. He guessed it  _ would _ be rather inconvenient to have to find a new first mate, so it was his bad on that front. But honestly, how difficult could it be? It was Germaine’s fault if he couldn’t replace his crew members, he should’ve expected it when they'd tried to duel him. He shouldn't have been sticking his nose into business that didn’t concern him.

Dubab’s train of thought was interrupted by the familiar sound of a thunder cannon going off on the deck, followed closely by the splintering of wood and screams of his crew. A dark grin split across Dubab’s face as he yanked his sword from its sheath.  _ Finally _ . He knew they wouldn’t be able to stay away for long. 

Dubab leisurely made his way up the stairs, heavy boots thumping on the wood. He didn’t bother with speed, confident in the knowledge that Germaine would be waiting for him. They were no longer as much of a threat without that pesky first mate, and Rivur could hold off most of them without issue. Arriving at the top of the stairs, Dubab slammed the door open, spotting Germaine nigh immediately. The feral look on his rival’s face only served to widen his grin, carving his sword through the air to slice into the deck. Germaine finished off the dragonborn he was fighting with one shot from his cannon, immediately whipping around to face the other captain. 

“Dubab!” There was fire in his eyes and a snarl on his lips as he stared down the orc, shoulders heaving with heavy breaths from the battle he’d just won. His disheveled appearance was exactly what Dubab had been craving these past few months, not that he’d ever admit it. 

“About time you showed up, I was starting to wonder if you’d died along with that first mate of yours.” The sheer fury on Germaine’s face took Dubab by surprise. He had been expecting anger, but not this. This was pure hatred, from the gleam of his eyes to the promise of violence in his stance.

But as far as Dubab was concerned, it was nothing a good fuck couldn’t fix. 

“Now Appendix, that look might be giving me the wrong idea. But don’t worry, I can make you forget all about him in no time at all, what do you say?” When Germaine’s expression didn’t change, Dubab was worried for a moment that he’d really gone too far. He’d had that elf in his crew for a long time, had he actually-

But then Germaine’s head fell forward, his cannon was ever so slightly lowered, and every doubt vanished from Dubab’s mind.  _ Hook, line, and sinker. _ Of course he’d submit, he always did. Why else would he keep coming back? The orc sought out Rivur in the midst of the fighting, sending her a wink as soon as she met his eyes. She glanced from him over to Germaine, rolling her eyes as she finished off her opponent. She knew exactly what was going to happen, and though she didn’t approve, it wasn’t as if there was anything she could do to stop it.

Dubab’s eyes flicked back to Germaine- curiously not reacting to his crew beginning to lose the battle- before turning and heading back down the stairs. He knew he would be followed, no use in checking. 

Just as he thought, he soon heard the telltale footsteps of the other captain trailing behind him. It had been a while since they’d been alone like this, long before the winged one had perished. Dubab was looking forward to it, glancing smugly back at Germaine before stepping into his office. 

He hadn’t gotten more than two steps when he was forced to freeze at the sensation of a gun barrel against his head. Dubab let out a long suffering sigh, only putting his hands up for the sake of appearances. The sound of a hammer clicking back proved nothing, Dubab merely rolling his eyes at the display. Of course as soon as he turned his back, he had a gun to his head. He was barely out of the doorway, they hadn’t even gotten anywhere good yet. Honestly, didn’t he have more than one trick? The guns were getting old, they’d proved they wouldn’t really kill each other ages ago. He’d known his previous crew member to be more creative than this.

“C’mon Appendix, haven’t we already-“

“Shut up.” Germaine’s voice was cold, colder than the orc had expected, surprising him as much as the look he’d received up on deck. The metal on the back of his head was trembling minutely, and Dubab began turning around only for it to press harder into his skin. Germaine normally had steady hands, and would’ve let on that it was an act by now. Something was different.

Something was wrong.

“This is for Sylas.”  _ Oh, sh- _

Bang.

———-

Germaine had killed a lot of people during his time on the high seas. Wealthy merchants, innocent fisherman, scum pirates, the whole lot. He was used to death and decay, the spray of blood, the smell of gunpowder, the recoil of the weapon in his palm. None of it bothered him after so many centuries on the ocean, and he would’ve told anyone asking that he’d seen it all.

However, he hadn’t ever expected this one. Captain Dubab of the Dubaddies, the unbeatable, the immortal, was lying in a slowly growing pool of his own blood. The surprise attack prevented their encounter from being seen as a duel, a loophole Germaine was all too willing to exploit. He hadn’t even known if it would work, he’d simply known that he had nowhere else to go. But here he was, he’d finally done it.

He wished he could say he was happy.

Germaine forced down the empty feeling in his chest, willing it to crystalize back into rage. He had to take action before the rest of the crew had a chance to figure out what had happened. Dubab’s body wasn’t completely blocking the door, Germaine just had to kick aside one of his legs to shove the heavy oak closed. It would’ve taken more time than he could afford to attempt moving his old captain’s body, leaving him to abandon it on the floorboards. He took just a moment to stare at the corpse, resentment and disgust and just the tiniest bit of regret flowing through him before he could tear his eyes away. He would deal with that with a bottle of dragon whiskey once he got off this hellhole of a ship. For now though, he would sit in Dubab’s chair and wait for his problems to come to him.

———-

The first mate of the Dubaddies wasn’t stupid, though it wasn’t difficult to appear smart in comparison to her captain. She had been with the crew for decades, essentially running the ship while Dubab was off doing whatever the hell he did when she wasn’t supervising him. The sheer amount of time she had spent as his right hand woman was frustrating to say the least, and it lead to her learning about Dubab’s many,  _ many _ annoying quirks.

He didn’t have any regard for the ship, constantly swinging his sword around as if it wouldn’t take chunks out of the wood. He turned invisible whenever a situation got too tough to handle. He kept an obscene number of hummus barrels below deck, insisting on very specific ingredients. He forgot to feed any prisoners they took, leading to the growing number of skeletons in their cells. He tended to have extremely loud sex with his old navigator during their battles.

Rivur’s near encyclopedic knowledge of Dubab was the only reason she was currently so concerned. She could’ve sworn he left with the captain of the Lumiere near the beginning of the fight, and yet she’d heard none of the typical racket emanating from the office. She’d be thanking the gods if it wasn’t so suspicious. It wasn’t like Dubab to let Germaine stay, and it wasn’t like Germaine to allow his crew to die like this. As much as it pained her, Rivur knew she’d have to steel her nerves and see what was going on down there. Ugh, she hoped it wasn’t just some kink thing this time. Sighing in resignation, she told a crew member at random to watch over the ship and began to make her way down to the captain’s quarters.

The silence continued as she made her way down the stairs, each step transforming reluctance into apprehension. What was actually happening down there? If it came down to a fight, she would side with her captain without hesitation, but she’d liked Germaine when he had been on the crew with them. He was kindest to her when she was first taken onto the ship, before the other pirates learned to fear her as they now did. She would regret having to kill him- if Dubab hadn’t already taken care of it, that is.

Her strides grew quieter as she reached the door, ears straining for any clues about the pair’s activities. Not only were there no signs of their normal pastime, they weren’t even  _ talking _ . Maybe she had missed something, and Germaine had already left? Maybe they were finally acting like a normal couple and sleeping, not forcing the other to sneak off with ripped clothing and a bruised ego.

Or maybe they’d finally killed each other.

Only one way to find out.

Rivur straightened up, smoothing out her shirt before standing at attention in the doorway. Knocking hard against the oak, she let it ring out for a moment before announcing herself. She didn’t dare open the door yet, still stuck on the lingering fear of seeing something she would rather forget.

“Captain? It’s Rivur. I haven’t heard from you in a while, and I was under the impression you had a… guest. Everything alright?” Rivur mentally kicked herself for her own word choice, cringing in anticipation of the orc laughing at her calling his fuckbuddy a guest. However, she was thrown when the rough baritone she had been expecting was replaced by a soft tenor. Void of emotion but still recognizable, Germaine called back to her.

“Yes. Please come in, Rivur.” Shit. Had she been right? Oh, fuck. Ok, Dubab wasn’t answering, and Germaine had just invited her in. It was a trap. It was so obviously a trap, it couldn’t be any more obvious if someone spelled it out in giant fucking letters. 

...But Germaine had always been smart, and his willingness to talk instead of fight was something she’d admired for a long time. He could listen to people. Why should this be any different? They could come to an agreement, even if he and Dubab couldn’t. She could figure this out.

“Alright Germaine, let’s talk. No weapons, no fighting. We can come to some sort of agreement?” She hoped. She wasn’t sure if she could beat him in a straight fight, so this was her best option if Dubab was gone. 

How was he gone? He was immortal, how had Germaine finally managed to kill him? Did she even care? Did-

“Fine.”

Rivur breathed a sigh of relief, cracking her neck and shaking out her nerves. Germaine was a man of his word, and if Dubab was really dead, that made her the captain. So she was in charge of the ship’s affairs. Not the ideal introduction to the job, but she could deal. Right now it was showtime. She opened the door slowly, gaze automatically darting to the form splayed across the floor. Dubab’s body was surrounded by blood, his long hair soaking up some of the gore splattered onto the planks. Rivur couldn’t tear her eyes away from his motionless form. After years, decades, he was finally gone. This was her chance to finally advance, for people to know her name. She would finally get what she deserved.

Germaine’s bullets hit her before she could see the gun.

———-

The last remaining member of the Dubaddies shifted nervously behind the ship’s wheel, frantically glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to keep an eye on the door leading below deck. His anxious gaze was more pronounced than normal, but not particularly out of place on his wiry frame. The man had always been a bit skittish, and he hadn’t exactly closen the pirate life. One minute he was out walking on the docks, the next a woman with five hands was finding him and saying something about needing more help on deck. Soon enough he was on a ship, surrounded by people he would have otherwise given an extremely wide berth. Bad luck was pretty average for him, but he’d truly hit the jackpot with this one. After joining the crew, his anxiety had only gotten worse, but it hadn’t ever gotten to a point like this. Then again, he hadn’t ever been hunted before. 

One by one, his crew mates had all disappeared behind that door. Not a single one had come back out.

Normally he would’ve been ecstatic that they were all gone, but as it stood the timing couldn’t have been worse. Whoever was below deck clearly had it out for this crew, big surprise considering they were  _ literal pirates _ . He couldn’t even be mad; they had killed enough people that they probably deserved it. But he just wanted to go back to Bowerstone. He missed home: the familiar sounds of the factory, the ground beneath his feet, not having to worry about assassins. At least he knew what to watch out for in the factories. This was completely unknown, and the solitude was not helping his train of thought stay on track. He was just following directions hastily given to him by the navigator's assistant, praying to whatever god was listening that he could make it back in time.

Nearly an entire excruciating hour had passed before he finally saw the smoke plumes of Bowerstone Industrial on the horizon. A sob burst from the man’s throat, the threat still lurking underneath him nearly forgotten in the euphoria of seeing his home town again. He could finally go back! He would bring his family the vast amounts of gold he knew were on this ship; they wouldn’t ever have to work again. Reaver and his foremen weren’t getting a cent. Everything would be alright, if he could just-

He froze at the sensation of cold metal against the back of his head. Wavering hands slowly rose off the wheel into the air, the man’s entire form trembling like a poorly oiled machine. He hadn’t been watching the door.

“L-Look, whoever you are, whatever we did, I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I don’t want to be in this crew, please just let me go, I-“ The sound of a hammer pulling back interrupted the beginnings of a ramble, the man flinching violently and quickly shutting his mouth. He sent a silent goodbye to his family as he turned ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of the one who would be his undoing. The other man’s expression was mostly neutral, but there was pure, raw emotion in his eyes. Ruthless in it’s surety, the gun in his hands was perfectly steady. His bloodstained coat answered any questions necessary about the ship’s former crew, and the final member of the Dubaddies turned back around towards his city.

“You were complacent.” There was ice in his voice as he spoke, and his target finally stopped shaking while he looked toward the factories of Bowerstone. At least he got to see it one last time. He’d miss the place.

His eyes shut to the sound of a trigger.


End file.
